


Coming Home

by girloftheq (qthelights)



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-06-27
Updated: 2003-06-27
Packaged: 2017-10-30 07:11:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/329135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qthelights/pseuds/girloftheq
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Orli brings Dom home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Home

Dom was bouncing on the balls of his feet next to him, suitcases on the pavement to either side, hands shoved deep into his pockets.

“God damn its cold,” Dom grumbled, breath visible in the freezing night air.

“It’s England, Sblom,” he replied, stepping forward in line. 

“Ought to be a law against it.”

“England?”

“Funny,” Dom answered sarcastically, “I mean the temperature.”

“And outlawing that’s _not_ funny?”

Dom glared at him, something that Orlando found endearingly amusing. 

The couple in front of them ducked into the cab, well almost _jumped_ in more like. It really was cold. Even for England. He repressed a sigh of relief as the next cab drove into the bay.

“Come on, Sblom. Let’s go home.”

* * *

He almost stumbled getting out of the cab, skip-hopped on one foot and regained both his balance and his bags, and avoided a puddle in the gutter. _Not bad_ , he thought, considering how fucking tired he was…and how god damned dark it was. He staggered down the garden path after Dom. Staggered, but for once they weren’t drunk. The cab drove off behind them with a swoosh of water and petrol fumes as they made their way up to the house. His house. His house that was about to have Dom in it.

“So this is it,” Dom stated at the door, rubbed his eyes with his knuckles as he tried not to drop the bag in his hand.

“Yep. Home sweet- _Jesus thank god I’m_ home.” He fumbled in his jacket pockets for the keys, remembered they were in his backpack. 

“It’s nice.”

“Thanks,” Orlando replied automatically, finally managing to free the keys from the pocket of the backpack, arm twisted backwards behind him, bag skewed and falling down one shoulder. 

“Anyone home?” Dom asked, hefting his bags up again as Orlando slipped in the key, turned it with a flick of his wrist and a click, the confident ease of a movement done a million times.

“Nah, just us. Mum’s gone for the week.”

 _Just us_ , he repeated in his head. Forced the smile that threatened to curve his lips back down. Later.

He pushed the door open and stepped into the familiar hall, stopping and standing in the dark. Breathed in and the scent of _home_ washed over him…the soap used in the laundry, the lingering aroma of basil and other herbs growing in the kitchen, perfume - orange and vanilla - that would forever be his mum.

Fuck he loved being home.

“Oi, ... get a move on, it’s wet out here,” Dom grumbled from behind him and he dutifully shuffled further inside. 

“Keep yer clothes on Sblom,” he mumbled, shedding suitcases and bags, the dreaded backpack. Dropped the keys onto the side table and flicked the light switch, bathing the corridor and opposite stairs in a warm glow. Rust red carpet flowed down the stairs, turned right into a darkened room and also continued straight, stopping at the door. A slight glimpse of hardwood floors through the door to the left. Warm.

“Easy for you to say, oh dry and inside one.”

“Dry and inside one?” He questioned, turned to Dom with a grin. He loved Dom when he was tired, he made even less sense than normal. And got amusingly grouchy.

“Shut up,” Dom mumbled, shedding his own bags and coats into a heap on the floor. “Hope no one wants to get in,” he said, surveying the obstacle course they’d made between them.

“Or out,” Orlando added, grin widening and raising an eyebrow salaciously. 

“You should be so lucky,” Dom replied, before: “So do I get a tour?”

He snorted, pointed left “Kitchen,” pointed right, “Lounge,” up the stairs, “bedrooms, bathroom.”

“Yer such a fuck, you know that?”

“Why yes I do,” he grinned at Dom’s exasperated face. “But right now, this fuck is going to bed.” He eyed the piles of luggage on the floor, “Before I end up sleeping here….c’mon, I’ll show you where you can sleep.”

“It’s not with you is it?” Dom asked, screwing up his face in mock disgust as he trudged up the stairs behind him.

“Not likely mate,” Orlando replied, trailing his hand up the worn wooden handrail to keep him steady. “I never bring my conquests to my mother’s house.”

They plodded up two more stairs in silence.

“That’s a lie isn’t it?”

“Yep.” _But I didn’t bring you here, you came willingly,_ he thought.

Dom snorted behind him and Orlando smiled to himself as he reached the landing.

“This is my old room,” he said, turning left into the room and flicking the switch. The overwhelming feeling of relief at being somewhere so safe and _his_ flooded through him.

“Ooh… the lair or Orlando. Can I see?” Dom asked, peering over his shoulder, hands on Orlando’s lower back pushing gently.

“To fan the flames of your perverted fantasies?” he quipped, moving aside to let him in.

“Naturally,” Dom grinned at him before moving to the exact middle of the room. Stood there and turned in a slow circle taking everything in. Orlando’s bed, black and large - and if Dom didn’t get out of there in a minute he’d just lay down and go to sleep regardless of what Dom was doing at the time. 

The posters that had adorned his walls - for five years too many at least. Superman, of course. Debbie Harry. LadyDeath behind the door. Stereo on the chest of drawers. CD rack empty save a few unloved titles that didn’t make the cut, and were much too embarrassing, to take with him when he’d moved out. Lots of old cassette tapes that he’d never listen to again. Would throw them out one day…save a couple as mementos. Closet, in the same state as the CD racks. Old sports equipment in the corner. Bookshelf with worn books stacked haphazardly. Fuck he missed home sometimes.

Dom appeared to finish his observations, turned to him with a raised eyebrow, “LadyDeath?”

“She’s hot man,” he replied simply, gestured back into the corridor. “Come on, I’ll show you where you can crash.”

He led the way to the next door up the hall. “This is Sam’s room,” he told Dom, turning on the light to illuminate what was definitely a room once inhabited by a girl. Pink. Flowers. Stuffed animals.

The look on Dom’s face was priceless.

“Fuck you,” Dom mumbled at the grin gracing Orlando’s face.

“Bathroom’s that door there,” he said ignoring the comment and pointing to the door across the hall. “And now I’m going to crash before I fall over.”

“Night,” Dom mumbled, gingerly stepping further into the room, and Orlando couldn’t tell if the tone was dejected or exhausted. He chuckled and made his way back into his own room. Closed the door, turned off the light, threw everything he was wearing on the floor and practically fell into bed.

* * *

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he woke up next, lying on his stomach, but he wasn’t as tired as before and it was still pitch black in the room.

Vaguely annoyed at waking up for no apparent reason he buried his face into the pillow, stretched his arms out, fingertips gripping the sides of the mattress for a second, and legs downwards under the covers, relishing the warmth and sheer pleasure of the muscles un-bunching under his skin.

The soft creak of the floorboard just outside his room, though, he did hear. Knew it well in fact, the floorboard that alerted him to his sister sneaking back in at night when he was a kid, or meant his mum was coming to check he was asleep, giving him a split second to kill the light and throw whatever book or comic he was reading down the side of his bed. The floorboard that he always remembered to avoid when he was old enough to be sneaking back inside himself.

The door opened a crack, letting in a slightly cold draft, and he could just make out a figure peeking in.

“Dom?” he whispered, though there was no one to be quiet for, nor anyone else it could be.

“Yeah,” Dom answered, whispering too, opening the door and stepping inside. “You awake?”

“Um…”

“Yeah, yeah…I mean are you awake enough for company?” 

Orlando scrunched up his eyes, un-scrunched them, trying to squeeze the foggy sleep from his head, turned over onto his back and sat up, hands keeping the covers at his waist. Could just make out Dom standing there in what he thought was a t-shirt and boxers. “What’s up?”

“The dolls are looking at me.”

Orlando wondered just how awake he really was. “Excuse me?”

“Samantha’s dolls, man, they’re fuckin’ freaking me out.”

“Her dolls,” he repeated, aware he was sounding like an idiot but still having trouble comprehending what the hell was going on.

“Get with it Orli,” Dom said sounding exasperated and now Orlando could tell that Dom was grinning, could see the soft white sparkle of teeth as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. “Sam’s dolls keep staring at me.” Again the flash of white teeth.

Dom.

“I’m not going to get anymore sleep for awhile right?” he asked, knowing the answer. 

Hoping he knew the reason also.

“Nope,” Dom answered, coming over to the bed and nudging at the covers, hitting Orli’s upper thigh. “Move over.”

“I’m kinda naked here, Sblom.”

“Worried I’m gonna plunder your virginity?” Dom grinned, his breath fanning hotly past Orlando’s ear.

“Only if I’m lucky,” he replied without missing a beat, shifting over to the other side of the bed, again holding the covers over him. 

“I’m pretty expensive,” Dom responded smugly, settling in under the covers on his side.

“I think I can afford you.” _Give me half a chanc_ e, he thought.

“Yer awfully sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Mmhmm.”

Dom snuggled down into the bed, _his_ bed, next to him, pulled the covers up to his chest. Looked up to him, eyes shining, mouth quirked “Aren’t you going to join me?”

“You know,” Orlando said, sliding down into the bed, “If anyone asks, this never happened.” What exactly never happened remained to be seen.

“No problems,” Dom told him, squirmed around getting comfortable, “I’ll just say I can’t talk about it.”

“Dominic,” he growled, drawing out the name.

“What?” All innocence and eyebrows.

“You know _what.”_

“What…you _do_ want me to talk about it to people?” Dom grinned at him. Pest. “Tell them what wild and raunchy things the famous Orlando gets up to with his co-stars?”

“We haven’t gotten up to any wild and raunchy things. Some of us haven’t even gotten to sleep.”

“Well we haven’t yet anyway,” Dom replied, turning on his side towards him, arm propping him up.

“Gotten to sleep?” he asked, realizing that he was suddenly quite close to Dom. And still quite naked. Twitch.

“Gotten raunchy,” Dom replied firmly, staring straight at him.

“And are we going to?”

“Sleep?” Dom asked, the corner of his mouth turning up, and Orlando could feel the word whisper against his lips.

“Get raunchy.” 

“What do you think?” Dom asked, dangerously closer than a second ago and Orlando abandoned all pretense of playing it cool.

“I think, that um,” he paused, managed to choke out, _“please?”_

The word barely left his lips before Dom’s lips were on him, soft and warm and just _touching,_ stilled. He felt Dom’s mouth part, just slightly, then still once more, felt his breathing against his mouth. Warm and moist, and feather soft, and then moving, parting, opening up to him. He felt Dom’s tongue against his bottom lip, sliding back and forth slowly, darting up to his top lip. Dom’s tongue disappeared but his lips stayed wet on his, and then he felt the smile against his mouth, eyes flickering open into Dom’s, pale and reflective in the slight moonlight from the window, but he could nevertheless make out the arousal.

_Jesus._

He felt the guttural sound that emanated from the bottom of his throat more than he consciously made it. Reached out under the covers, found Dom’s hip and gripped tightly as he slipped his tongue between Dom’s lips. Lips, teeth, tongue. _God yes._ Sliding, dancing, curling together. Faster and faster, quicker, rougher. Somewhere he was aware that Dom had a hand on his own hip, sliding up and down his naked skin, clutching and releasing, digging in sharply as Orlando moved his own hip-placed hand downwards, over the silk of Dom’s boxers, contacting.

 _“Fuck…”_ Dom shuddered against him breaking the contact of their swollen mouths.

“You’re wearing all together too many clothes, Sblom,” he rasped softly, head spinning, blood pounding so hard it felt like something was going to burst through his skin.

“I’d take them off but I swear to god Orli if you move your hand I’m going to kill you,” Dom groaned.

Orlando grinned, curled his hand around Dom through the silk and flexed his fingers.

“Fuck, Orli…” Dom managed to grunt before he captured Orlando’s mouth again, tongue invading possessively. The hand resting on Orlando’s thigh disappeared and then he felt it cupping his cheek and jaw, rubbing over the scratchy stubble and then sliding smoothly back around his head, into the curls of his hair. He let his own hand slip back and then forwards again through the thin material, felt Dom’s mouth freeze against his momentarily, turn languid and soft, tongue slowing. The thumb at Orlando’s temple smoothing sensuously back and forth in an action so gentle he could hardly believe Dom was capable of it at the same time as the arching in his hand and the teeth that were now teasing his bottom lip.

“Closer,” Dom murmured against his lips, shifting until they were just touching, chest to toe, sliding a leg in between Orlando’s. 

“Closer,” Dom murmured again, this time against his jaw and Orlando laughed softly returning his hand to Dom’s hip, the top of his thigh, pushing closer until they were flush against each other, warmth and skin and silk and friction.

“Probably shouldn’t tell people about this,” Dom said, chewing lightly on Orlando’s jaw.

“No….probably not…” he agreed with a grin. Breathed in sharply as Dom moved against him below. 

“I thought you said you weren’t going to plunder my virginity,” he murmured, running his hand up under Dom’s t-shirt, smoothing it over the warm skin of his side, over ribs and then sliding over and down his back. Dom licked and bit up to Orlando’s ear in a second.

“You’re not a virgin,” he breathed.

Orlando shivered, “No...”

“Well then.”

“I knew you had perverted fantasies.”

“Only of you,” Dom answered, mouth quirking, moving back to Orlando’s mouth, hands exploring, limbs tangling. Rearranging, melding.

“For real this time,” he said the second Dom pulled back from his mouth again. “You need to take your clothes off _now.”_

Dom’s eyes narrowed slyly. “I do?”

“Don’t you play coy with me, Sblom,” he warned, reaching down to the hem of Dom’s t-shirt. Grabbed two fistfuls of the material and tugged upwards. “Sit up.”

Dom, _miraculously,_ Orlando thought, did as he was told, shifted himself upright. Orlando pulled the shirt over Dom’s head, over his arms, let it drop to the edge of the bed. _Half naked Dom. Well that’s a plus._

“Better?”

“Almost,” he answered, abandoning the next step of removing the boxers to lean inwards for a second, touch his lips to the collarbone that was beckoning to him. Draw his tongue slowly along it. He could feel Dom’s heartbeat through his skin, found it intensely erotic for some reason. Leaned down a little more, dipped his tongue into the hollow at the bottom of Dom’s throat and felt him swallow beneath it. Tasted salt.

When he pulled back Dom’s eyes were closed, one of his hands closed tightly around a fist of pillow.

Orlando smirked. _What, Dom thought he was the only seducer in this scenario?_

“You can lie back down now.”

“Um…yes,” Dom said, eyes opening before he slithered back down into bed.

Orlando stayed sitting, placed his fingertips on Dom’s chest, let them trail down skin and ribs, navel. Waistband. Dom arched his hips without being told and Orlando couldn’t help but smile ridiculously, slipped his fingers under the silky material and drew them over and down. Let Dom kick them off the remaining way as his hand smoothed back up Dom’s thigh. Found what he was looking for and elicited a barely audible _“Orli...”_

* * *

Orlando was behind Dom, chest pressed against Dom’s back, expanding into Dom’s spine as he took shuddery breaths. Pressed forwards with a muted groan, pulled Dom closer, though still not close enough.

Grazed his teeth over the tendons in Dom’s neck, his shoulder, felt the tension inside him build with the noises in Dom’s throat, the way he was pressing back into him, his arm twisted back and hand gripping Orlando’s hip so tightly it hurt.

And when Dom cried out, _“Orli!”_ he couldn’t take it anymore, arched into Dom as he came, eyes closing and head tipping back. Vaguely aware of Dom tensing suddenly and gripping Orlando’s hip hard enough to bruise. 

_God yes,_ was literally all he could think as he sank down into Dom and the bed, heart thudding fast in his chest, lungs burning. Stayed like that for what felt like minutes, forehead resting against the back of Dom’s head, against damp hair, silent. Felt the last twitches of pleasure in his muscles starting to ebb.

“Fuck,” he managed eventually.

“Fuck,” Dom agreed, rise and fall of his breath slowing against Orlando’s chest.

“I can sleep now right?” he grinned, placed his lips at the base of Dom’s neck as he said it.

“Hmm…yes,” Dom consented, maneuvering out from under Orlando to settle on his back.

“Good,” Orlando smiled, lay on his stomach and nuzzled down into the pillow, arm stretched possessively over Dom’s chest.

He began to grow sleepy almost immediately, sure that in the morning he’d be able to process things just a little better than the moment. No hurry.

“So Debbie Harry, eh?”

He mumbled into the pillow, too tired to lift his head, “It was always about Superman you know.”

“Superman, eh?”

“Shut up, Sblom.”

Fuck he loved being home.


End file.
